Directorial Subtlety Saves Fierstein’s A Catered Affair

The trouble with going to see a show for its director is that, unlike going to see a show for a performer, whose presence can be a redeeming quality, the director isn’t actually there. It’s an even bigger problem when an actor diminishes the work of said director—especially when that actor is also the book writer.

Broadway veteran and book writer Harvey Fierstein plays Winston, pushy but amiable uncle of Janey (Leslie Kritzer) in A Catered Affair. Based on the 1956 film by the same name, the new musical is about a Bronx family in the spring of 1953. When Janey and her boyfriend Ralph (Matt Cavenaugh) decide to get married, they want only a small ceremony at City Hall. Only immediate family will be present. Winston will not accept that he is not considered “immediate family,” and to avoid a family feud, Janey’s parents decide to give her and Ralph the big wedding they do not want.

Tony-winning director John Doyle, known for his revivals of Sondheim’s Company and Sweeney Todd, in which the actors doubled as their own orchestra, proves to the skeptics what those of us who believe in his genius have known all along: he can do a show without the instruments, and is anything but a gimmick. This time, he employs not a “concept,” but a degree of cinematic realism—and though it may not allow us to see as well what a visionary he is, it’s good direction just the same.

Doyle brings to A Catered Affair his knack for distilling a show to a quiet, natural subtlety, a gift often reflected in the performances of his actors, the cast of A Catered Affair included, sans Fierstein. Kritzer is sweet and endearing as Janey. Faith Prince gives what, in any other Patti LuPone-less season, might be an award-worthy performance as Aggie, Janey’s mother and Winston’s sister. Torn by grief over the loss of her son and frustration with her own marriage, she fears further severance in her family. Tom Wopat turns in a typically reliable performance as Janey’s brooding father.

Between them and other members of the principle cast, A Catered Affair approaches those moments of real, raw emotion that Doyle is so adept at creating many times, only to be broken by a grandiose entrance or cheap shot for a laugh. Many of Winston’s lines are quite funny, but there is comic relief, and then there is self-indulgent overkill.

It’s not a matter of “don’t put your writer in your show.” Lin-Manuel Miranda (In The Heights) and Stew (Passing Strange) manage to star in their shows this season without pompous fanfare—and they fit in. It’s the mismatch that’s the issue. A Catered Affair is a poignant story, a tiny show about a circumstance not extraordinary, capable of being quite moving—well-suited for Doyle’s “stick to the story” method of direction. But his is a philosophy of theater largely marked by that quiet subtlety, and Fierstein is anything but subtle. Doyle’s underlying influence is easy to find—he knows well the value of a good pause, the impact of forgoing kitschy production numbers—but with Winston’s presence in the show being so prominent, it’s hard for the Doyle factor to be overwhelmingly redeeming.

Fierstein’s acting may be questionable, but his writing, for the most part, is not. It’s sharp and witty, touching when it needs to be, although it could stand to be a bit more so. John Bucchino’s score is nice enough, though his lyrics are more effective than his music. Some of the highest emotional points come in song, which is something of a paradox, because at other points, A Catered Affair seems like it might work better as a play. As a whole, it doesn’t feel like it needs to sing. Only a few of the songs—most notably those brilliantly performed by Faith Prince and Tom Wopat’s explosive “I Stayed”—are truly earned. The rest add little, and what they say could just as well be spoken. Of course, the need for any song at all makes for a musical, but a show with such a chamber-like quality on stage could stand to be less fragmentary.

Doyle re-teams with two of his Company creatives for A Catered Affair: set designer David Gallo and costume designer Ann Hould-Ward. Gallo’s set is fairly simplistic, and employs projections to play into the show’s cinematic quality—the costumes are intricate without being overly elaborate.

While the director’s work may not be a cure-all for what ails a show, it undoubtedly helps—and in this case, probably elevates it above what it might otherwise be. Even if not able to outshine certain antics, it is an aspect that makes it worth seeing—the theater is about telling stories, and storytelling is one thing A Catered Affair is steered to do well.